CHAPTER XLVII.
“LIFE IS SO SAD!” CRIED FLOY.
Floyd Landon’s nerves were so shaken by his experiences at Suicide Place, that no entreaties could induce him to go on with the search for Floy.
His usual clear head and steady nerves had apparently deserted him. The truth was, that he was on the verge of a severe illness that seized on him that night and prostrated him for several weeks.
When he was gone, the impatient lover confided all to his family, and announced his immediate departure for Mount Vernon.
“I shall take a posse of men and explore the old house by daylight. Not a nook or cranny shall escape me, and if my darling is hidden there, she will be found. Indeed, I can not understand why Mr. Landon did not do this,” he concluded, with feverish impatience.
“I can not let you go alone. I will accompany you!” exclaimed Alva, eagerly; and the offer was eagerly accepted.
They started for Mount Vernon within the hour, and on arriving went at once to a hotel.
What was Beresford’s astonishment to meet there a person whom, in the agitation of his troubles, he had almost forgotten—his interesting compagnon du voyage—Lord Alexander Miller!
The nobleman’s fair, handsome face had acquired a deeper cast of pensiveness than before. His splendid blue eyes were grave and sad, but they kindled with admiration when they rested on the brilliant beauty of Alva as St. George presented him to his sister.
When he saw St. George’s start of surprise, he smiled and said: